


The White Cat

by Crowley_Kitten



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Homelessness, M/M, Shapeshifting, fairytale AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-21 17:26:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30025257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crowley_Kitten/pseuds/Crowley_Kitten
Summary: this is from a prompt that has been appearing in some of the facebook groups lately. I've taken a slightly different angle with it.Crowley was born on the streets. he will die on the streets.but he gets by, on his wit, charm, resourcefulness and knowledge. the divide between the rich and the poor in his city is vast. and the arrival of a lot of wealthy newcomers brings a buzz and excitement to the city.while foraging, for food for himself and to sell to taverns, and the kitchens of the wealthy, he encounters a curious white raven.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 51





	1. Chapter 1

  
Crowley was exhausted.    
  
  
Life was hard on the streets, and while the climate was kind, the roads were still hard on his bones. The little niche where he made himself as near as he could to home was small, and offered a little privacy. It was behind a bakery, and the ovens made the little space behind the building warmer at night.    
  
He hadn’t known any other life. He had been born on the streets, and he would die on the streets. He worked when he could. Picking olives grapes and oranges when the season was right. He would catch crabs from the city wall. He was an accomplished forager in the woodland near the city. He would catch rabbits and squirrels and fish. He knew which plants and fungi were safe to eat. Sometimes there was a little to be made selling the foraged foods to taverns or the kitchens of wealthy men. He had a good sense for where truffles can be found, and those could be sold to the palace kitchen. The last one he’d found had been big enough that the palace cook had struck a deal that he would be fed a cooked meal every day for a month. That had been a good month. Knowing he would go to sleep with a full belly every night.    
  
The city was buzzing today. Many richly dressed guests were arriving in inns and taverns in their fine coaches. He decided a trip to the forest was in order tomorrow. He could maybe catch some rabbits or fish to sell, as there would be more people to feed. Maybe he’d get lucky with another truffle, although the weather wasn’t quite right at the moment. He could do with a wash, while he was down there and make himself more presentable if he was knocking at kitchen doors. For now he wrapped himself in his bedroll, and sighed. He had worked hard today, cleaning stables in preparation for the expected visitors. The inn had fed him a hot meal a warm, lightly spiced stew with mutton and a cup of ale. It had been very good. And he had some money hidden in the bottom of his pack that would let him eat for a few more days without worry. And they had sent him away with a good sized piece of cheese and some apples. He decided he would eat one tonight, and have the other in the morning. He chewed slowly, enjoying the sweetness of the fruit, eating even the core, and spitting out the pips.    
with his full belly and tired muscles, he fell easily into a contented sleep.    
  
  
  
Morning came, and with it the sounds of the city waking up around him. He could hear the baker scraping out the ashes from the oven through the wall. He carefully stashed his bedroll away, and checked his pack, ready for a day in the woods. He checked in at the bakers on the way out, and bought a small roll of yesterdays bread. It was a little stale, but that’s why it was cheap. With a cheery bounce to his step, he headed off to the city gates. More carriages were arriving, must be something big going on. He hadn’t seen so many people arriving here for a long time. It was a hot day, and it felt good to be beneath the canopy of the trees, cool, rich earth beneath his bare feet. Crowley gathered some wild garlic, breathing in the delicious scent. He tugged his bow out of a hollow tree he kept some of his things safe in, uncoiled the string he kept in his pouch, and bent the wood to string it. He would need to make some more arrows soon, but for now, these were in good order. In short time he bagged a couple of plump rabbits and a woodpigeon. He made a small fire and cooked the pigeon for himself, then tucked into the warm meat with his cheese and bread, and some of the wild garlic. Stomach full, he decided to set up his net before stripping down and swimming in the stream, washing himself as clean as he could. The water was chilly and invogorating.    
  
Ever sensitive to his surroundings, he felt eyes upon him. He swam to the bank, looking around. A white raven eyed him warily from a nearby branch.    
  
“Haven’t seen you before.” He called out. “If you find the remains of my fire in the next clearing, there’s some pigeon guts there if you like.” Crowley laughed when the bird fluffed up his unique plumage and cocked his head sideways. Crowley let himself float on his back, the current lazily moving him along until he swam back to his net. Well, there was a good sized fish. That should make a good dinner. Not really one that he could sell easily. He climbed out of the water, wringing the water out of his long, blood red hair and coiling it into a knot at his nape. He rolled on the thick grass at the bank to brush off most of the water, and dressed himself. It was a hot day. He would dry easily before nightfall, and now he felt much fresher.    
  
Crowley gutted the fish, tossing the innards to the white bird, before wrapping it in some of the wild garlic leaves and putting it into the embers of the fire, covering it over with stones while he looked for mushrooms. Adding more of the fungi to his pack, with the rabbits and garlic, he checked the fish. It was cooked and he wrapped it in fresh leaves to take it home.    
  
The bird hopped from branch to branch, following him to the edge of the trees, and watched him as he headed back towards the city gates.    
  
  
~~~   
]

  
Crowley managed to sell the rabbits, mushrooms and garlic to Marjorie at The Fishermans arms inn. She gave him a few coins, and a cup of ale, with the promise of some bread and ale tomorrow after they served lunch to paying customers, along with anything left uneaten. It was a good deal. The older woman had a soft spot for him and was always flirtatious, and paid up fairly if he played his part with a little banter and fluttering of his long eyelashes. He knew that she had needed to do baser things in her youth to get by, and she cared about those who struggled. In fact, he could often find the smallest arrangement that would get leftovers sent his way, as they didn’t have pigs. So he always called on her first, with anything not fancy enough for posh kitchens. She wouldn’t see him go hungry if she could help it. She had been a close friend of his mothers, and always kept an eye out for him. He had a little money in his pack, and decided that with fairly reliable food for the next week or so, he could let himself have a few more pints of ale, and enjoy spending his evening as normal people might. Eventually, Marjorie led the drunk and stumbling young man to the kitchen, letting him sleep on the floor for the night. The poor lad had never had a home. Never belonged anywhere. And if she turned him loose on the street, with nowhere to go, who knew what might happen? And he always made a fair bargain for the food he sold. So she kept an eye out for him. She had known his mother, back in their younger days, when it was easier for them to ply their trade. And she had always kept a careful eye out for the boy, and now the man. His features were pretty, and she knew that without his considerable skills at taking care of himself, he could easily fall into money for favours. Pretty thing like him. And he had such a sweet innocence to him that he didn’t want to see destroyed by that.    
  
No. Better that he keeps to his fishing, hunting, foraging and day labour. So she would always make sure to do what she could to keep him fairly treated. She found a blanket to tuck around him, near to the fireplace. At least for tonight, he would have a roof over his head.    
and tomorrow, he would no doubt be nursing a hangover. She wouldn’t charge him for a breakfast. Some willowbark tea should do the trick to see him on his way. He did alright out there. She wished she could offer him a more permanent solution. But she kept an eye out for him. It was all she could do. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prince Aziraphale is trying to find a solution to his families insistence he marry soon.

  
Prince Aziraphale was flustered. The ball was three days away, and he WASN’T looking forward to it. This was his last chance to find a good matrimonial match, or his hand would be forced.    
  
Unless he could find a way around it. He was in his library, trawling through the family histories for any precedent that could keep the decision in his hands. The young ladies being presented to him were perfectly lovely, he was sure, but he wasn’t interested. And they were practically CHILDREN, dammit. They had nothing in common. They would find him painfully boring company. He liked to read, and to sit in pleasant solitude in the sun. To ride in the woods. He didn’t like balls or parties. He enjoyed fine foods, and was getting soft around his middle. Besides which, he had no interest in raising children. His nephews and nieces were perfectly lovely, but he had no desire for a wife. He wasn’t even sure he’d be able to do the deed. And the thought of gritting his teeth and getting it over with, well, he was sure that would be just as unpleasant for a wife as for himself.    
  
No. There needed to be a loophole somewhere.    
  
His sensitive hearing picked up approaching footsteps. He didn’t want to be disturbed for some boring palace nonsense. He was BUSY. With an irritated sigh, he concealed himself among the shelves, knowing he could slip out unnoticed. The door opened and his valet called for him.    
  
The Prince smiled smugly to himself as he completely escaped notice, sidling out of the door when the man's back was turned, breaking into a silent footed run down the corridor. He climbed out of a nearby window, and, using the rooftops, made his way further into the city, feeling very pleased with himself. Nice to get a bit of fresh air and have a good stretch. The sun felt good on his back, so he stretched out luxuriantly on the roof and closed his eyes for a while.    
After a pleasant doze on the roof, Prince Aziraphale woke when the town square got busier. He perched at the edge of the roof, to eavesdrop on a storyteller, with bright, carved puppets, telling stories to a group of children.    
  
“....and the Princess did not want to marry the man chosen for her by the king.” The puppet shook her head sadly. Aziraphale narrowed his blue eyes. “So she agreed to marry on one condition. She would marry whoever could complete three challenges.” His eyes widened again. this was an old story, but it was based on truth. His great great great grandmother, in fact. “First, they must bring her one of the feathers from the white eagle that lived on the mountain. Then, they must stitch fine silk into a drinking pouch, and use it to bring water from the sea to the dry fountain in the square. and to this day, children, that fountain bubbles over with sea water. And thirdly he must bring a net of morning dewdrops....” He knew the story. He knew that the net was a morning cobweb. And he knew why the eagles feather gave the young princess a choice in the matter, while also testing the intelligence and cunning of the questing princes. He turned, and ran for the palace, back over the rooftops, back to the window of his library, where he had spent the morning. He began searching his books for the tales of the courtship of the Princess Ygritte.    
  
  
  
  
Crowley’s head ached. Marjorie had woken him gently with a bitter concoction to drink, and some bread, and some oats that had been simmered with the remnants of the rabbit bones for a little nutrition and flavour. She ruffled his hair fondly as she began preparing the richer foods for paying customers.    
  
“I feel like I’ve been run over by a carriage.” he groaned.    
  
“You had a few too many to drink last night dear. Couldn't turf you loose on the streets in that state. I know you’ve got a little money on you at the moment, and you could have been mugged or worse. I told your Mum I’d keep my eye out for you and I will.” She served up a cup of small ale, and Crowley pulled a face. “Come on dear, safer than the water, and you know it. And if you feel up to it, if you can help out until after the Lunch rush, then there’s more than just leftovers in it for you, how about that. One of the boats brought in some good squid this morning, so I’m making a good fish stew. I’m sure you'll enjoy it. ” He grunted.    
  
“Sounds lovely. When breakfast is ready, I’ll help serve and wash up.”    
  
“Good boy.” She clapped him firmly on the back and he winced.    
  


  
  
  
“....so you SEE, Father... I need to make sure any potential match is worthy. I wish to marry someone brave, intelligent and resourceful. Someone with a quick and clever mind, and able to figure out solutions to lifes challenges. I don’t want some dullard by my side. Not for myself, and not for the kingdom. So.... so I remembered the challenges of the courtship of the Princess Ygritte. And I would like to take the same approach. I wish to issue challenges so my suitors must PROVE themselves. The kingdom deserves the best possible rulers, does it not?” The king was flustered. He knew that, as there was a precedent for it, historically, he could not reasonably say no without an admission his line would be illegitimate due to the process.    
  
“Very well. Aziraphale, you have until the night of the ball to devise your challenges. We will announce them to the guests then, and to the city in the morning the following day.”    
  
“Thank you, your highness.” said the prince, bowing low, and leaving the hall for his library. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley lands on his feet yet again.

“Right dear, Lunch orders starting to come in. Wash your hands.” Crowley obeyed, after tying his long red hair back from his face and donning the offered apron. “the basic stew has potatoes and carrots with barley. Boiled with bones. Served in a dark bread trencher. That’s the cheapest so it usually sells earlier, because the workers start early and break for lunch early. When the nobs start coming in, that’s when sales of the more expensive one start up. That's the seafood. It's got squid, octopus, dogfish and mussels. It's a tomato based stew. That one we serve with the light bread roll and butter. I’ll saved you back a portion for when you’re done. Any leftovers you get. it’s going to be a busy one, there’s been lots more arrivals. I think there’s a ball or something coming up. Big smiles all round, be your usual sweet and charming self. Tits and teeth, Antony. Tits and Teeth. Get out there and charm them. Happy customers spend more money.”    
  
Marjorie nudged him out the kitchen door into the bar, and he switched on the charm. Checking in with the tables to see if anyone was there for food. Before long, he was rushing to and from the kitchen with trays of delicious smelling stews in trenchers. And a few in bowls with bread and butter. As Marjorie had predicted, the earlier orders were largely after something cheap and filling. The better dressed customers who started to arrive as the earlier rush began to ease off were more likely to opt for the seafood. The smell made his mouth water, and he looked forward to his lunch. The more richly dressed clientele were less friendly towards him, and more dismissive. However, he was also happy to note, they were also more likely to leave their meals unfinished. A man at one of the tables made an inappropriate suggestion about whether or not he was on the menu, while grabbing at his buttocks. Crowley schooled his face into a carefully blank polite smile. Apologised that no, he most definitely wasn’t, and cleared their bowls away, grateful to be able to get out of it. He knew that both Marjorie and his mother had needed to turn to such things to keep going. In fact, that’s probably how he came to be. He was grateful that he managed to get by without being pawed at by people like that man in the bar. He knew he was lucky. He knew he was VERY lucky to be able to make his way in the world as he did, on odd jobs, harvests and foraging.    
  
When the last of the lunchtime crowd dispersed, Tracy served him a bowl of the seafood stew, topped up with the small amounts people had left, a few bread rolls that remained uneaten, and a few bits of trencher soaked with the juices of the vegetable stew. Crowley ate ravenously. Marjorie really was a very fine cook. She made herself up a bowl, and sat across from him at the kitchen table, after taking a portion out to her daughter, still manning the now empty bar.    
  
“You did a great job today, Antony. You worked hard. Looks like we’ll be busy like this until that lot head home, you up for doing this regularly? I can pay you some. And I can feed you. And you can sleep in the kitchen. I was hoping you could head off early, try and bring some food in, which I will pay you for in coin, of course. Then help with the lunch and dinner services. You'll be fed and have a roof over your head, for now at least. I do hope that when Sal marries, which she hopes to by next summer, you can have her room. Take over more of her duties, and I won’t be able to PAY much, but I will be able to keep you housed, fed and clothed, at least. I always hoped I’d be able to give you a permanent home, and she’s courting, and hopeful for a match. There's a nice lad, works up the palace stables. Word has it he’s brilliant with the horses, and has good prospects for promotion. He hopes to be able to offer marriage soon. He’ll have a quarters in the yard, and be able to support a family, if things go well. I could have grandchildren soon!” Crowleys pale amber eyes widened.    
  
“So I could have an actual job?”   
  
“Not yet, but hopefully by next winter. In the meantime, you are ALWAYS welcome to sleep in the kitchen, even when you don’t have any trade. And I will always do my best to see you don’t go hungry. You're good to me. I want to do better by you.”   
  
“I.... I don’t know what to say. Are you sure?”   
  
“Of course I am, petal. I just wish I could have done more, sooner. Now, you’re free to do as you like. Fetch your stuff and you can bring it back with you tonight.” Crowley kissed her fondly on the cheek.    
  
“Thank you SO much Marjorie. I’m very very grateful for your kindness. I’ll head down the forest, see if I can get some more rabbits.” she ruffled his hair.    
  
“You’re a good boy, Antony. your mother raised you right. I miss her.” Crowley swallowed.    
  
“I do too.”    
  
  
  
~~~~~   
  
  
It was peaceful in the forest. Without the urgency of fighting to get by over his head, Crowley took a leisurely stroll through the trees, enjoying the whisper of the wind in the leaves. He washed his face in the cool water of the stream. He bagged up a few edible plants, and gathered a bunch of wildflowers as a thank you for Marjorie. He casually braided some into his hair too. Because, why not? He caught a flash of white in the corner of his eye, turning to follow it. The white raven trained a piercing blue eye on him.    
  
“Oh, it’s you. Have you had a good day? I have... I still have a bread roll in my pack.” Crowley pulled it out, tearing chunks off to throw towards the raven, who hopped closer, eyeing him warily. Crowley continued, idle chatter about how his day had gone, as the raven gradually hpped closer to him. Seemed to be listening. When the roll was all gone, Crowley finished the last of his cheese, and headed back to the city, while the bird watched him curiously. 


End file.
